“I Have Not Been of Much Use Yet, But I Don’t Want to be Laid Aside, Like Baggage to be Called For When All is Over.” Merry Speaks of His Self-Doubt to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli.

The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) p.756

From the very moment when Elrond chose the nine walkers to stand against the nine riders of Mordor there have been doubts about the suitability of the young hobbits, Merry and Pippin, to be members of that company. When at the last Elrond gave way to Gandalf and named them as members of the Fellowship he did so unwillingly and with a sigh.

And for all the brave words that Pippin spoke then about his determination to follow the Fellowship or to be tied up in a sack to prevent him from doing so both he and Merry have struggled with self-doubt about their being of any use upon the journey, and both of them have found themselves comparing their value to the others as being like a useless piece of baggage.

The first to do so was Pippin as he struggled back into consciousness after being captured by the orcs at Parth Galen.

“What good have I been? Just a nuisance, a passenger, a piece of luggage.” (The Two Towers, Harper Collins 1991, 2007, p. 579)

And later in the story it is Merry who makes very much the same complaint as he tries to stay secret, sitting in front of Éowyn whose own secret identity is Dernhelm as they ride towards Minas Tirith. Merry feels useless feeling that “he might just have been another bag Dernhelm was carrying.” Indeed when one of the riders trips over him in the dark Merry complains of being treated like a tree-root or a bag and the rider seems to join in with the joke saying to Merry, “Pack yourself up, Master Bag”. (The Return of the King, 1991, pp.812-813)

We have just left Pippin struggling with a different metaphor although a very similar sentiment. Pippin has likened himself to a pawn in a game of chess but on the wrong chessboard and now we join Merry in company with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli as they prepare to ride with Théoden to Edoras and then on by some unknown way to Minas Tirith. As Aragorn ponders his journey Merry gives out a plaintive cry:

“Don’t leave me behind!”

Poor Merry. This is not the cry of a warrior before battle as are the cries of Legolas and Gimli as they promise their support to Aragorn, it is the cry of a little child who simply does not want to be left out. The child knows that the grown ups don’t really need them for the important task that lies ahead but they fear to be left alone, and they fear to be thought a mere nuisance by those whose opinion they value so much.

Are we of any use?

Poor Merry; if he had hoped to get an answer from Aragorn he received none. Aragorn might have recalled the words that Gandalf spoke about the young hobbits when he and Gandalf met once again in the forest of Fangorn, that the coming of Merry and Pippin to Fangorn “was like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains” (The Two Towers p.647). He could use those words to give some kind of reassurance to Merry; but he does not. Perhaps he is too busy thinking about his own road to Minas Tirith, something that we will think about in the next post, but he does not.

There comes a moment in every life when we realise that the grown ups are not going to turn up and whatever happens next we are going to have to face it alone. For some people that moment will come far too soon but whenever it does come it will always feel that it has come when we are not prepared for it. At that moment we will feel utterly inadequate for what we are about to face and like Pippin in Minas Tirith we will want Gandalf to make us feel better or like Merry on the road to Edoras we will plead with Aragorn not to leave us behind but we will receive nothing. Like Pippin we will feel like a pawn in the wrong game or like Merry we will feel like a useless piece of baggage. But like both of them we will be carried to a place where there is no-one else to act and we will either run away or do what we can. As we shall see Merry and Pippin will do what they can.

“The Choice Was Just and It Has Been Rewarded”. Why Did Aragorn Choose to Pursue Merry and Pippin?

The Two Towers by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991, 2007) pp. 646-653

When Aragorn chose, with Legolas and Gimli, not to follow Frodo and Sam but to go across Rohan in pursuit of the orc band that had taken Merry and Pippin to Isengard it was a brave choice but also one of despair. When he had set out from Rivendell with the rest of the Fellowship his purpose was to fulfil his destiny. Through all that was to lie ahead of him, whether war in Minas Tirith or a journey with the Ringbearer to the Cracks of Doom, he would claim the throne, both of Gondor and Arnor, and he would claim Arwen, daughter of Elrond, to be his bride. For Elrond had told him that only the king, both of Gondor and Arnor, could marry his daughter.

Perhaps it was always a desperate hope but, step by step, he was determined to pursue his hope right to the very end. But then Gandalf fell in battle against the Balrog in Moria and his hope was dashed. Not even when Galadriel gave him the green stone of his ancestors, borne by Eärendil himself was his hope truly rekindled. Not even when she said: “Take the name that was foretold for you, Elessar, the Elfstone of the house of Elendil!”

So it was that when the Company was attacked at Parth Galen and Boromir fell and Merry and Pippin seized by orcs Aragorn chose to pursue them. Until that moment he had felt that he had two choices. Either he would go with Boromir to Minas Tirith and play his part in the defence of the city or he would go with Frodo to Mordor and there to do all he could to try to destroy the Ring. He felt in his heart that it was his duty to go with Frodo, especially after the fall of Gandalf, but that same heart longed to go to Gondor where his destiny lay.

All this was taken from him at Parth Galen. Boromir fell in battle seeking to defend Merry and Pippin and Frodo set out for Mordor taking Sam with him. What little hope remained to him that he might yet fulfil his destiny was taken from him. What lay ahead was what he knew was a fruitless task. He would pursue the orc band that had taken the young hobbits across the plains of Rohan and probably die in an attempt to free them. The pursuit took him to the Forest of Fangorn where he even wondered whether he might starve to death alongside the companions that he had tried to rescue.

And then he met Gandalf in the very place in which he expected to die beyond all hope. On the one hand he is filled with joy as hope is rekindled. On the other hand he wonders what the vain pursuit of Merry and Pippin was for.

Gandalf speaks to him.

“Come, Aragorn son of Arathorn!” he said. “Do not regret your choice in the valley of the Emyn Muil, nor call it a vain pursuit. You chose amid doubts the path that seemed right: the choice was just and it has been rewarded. For so we met in time, who otherwise might have met too late.”

Aragorn chose a path that that was utterly alien in nature to the dark forces ranged against him. For they saw all things and all creatures as objects merely to be used for their own purposes. This was true from Sauron and Saruman right down to the meanest of orcs. He chose to lay down his life, his dreams and deepest longings, in the service of two figures that seemed to be of little more value than lost luggage. Gandalf describes the choice as just. Aragorn acted justly in choosing to serve the weak. And he speaks of reward. He speaks of a sense that reality itself rewards such choices. Sauron and Saruman would dismiss such talk as mere sentimental drivel and typical of the weakness of people like Gandalf, a weakness that deserved to be swept away. Gandalf, and Aragorn too, have placed their bets upon an entirely different reality. They believe in a universe that is just; not an impersonal even an implacable thing. And, says Gandalf, the choice is rewarded. The universe approves an act of justice and of mercy.

Frodo Comes to the End of All Things on Mount Doom but Sam is Not So Sure.

“I am glad that you are here with me,” said Frodo. “Here at the end of all things, Sam.”

The Ring has gone to the Fire; the mighty tower of Barad-dûr has fallen into the dust; and the Dark Lord has passed forever into the shadow never to rise again. Amidst all of the ruin Frodo is content that his labours are at an end, his burden has gone and the night is falling. He has no wish to make some kind of escape. There is no future that he can see in which he might play some part. He has been wounded in the shoulder by the terrible knife of the Lord of the Nazgûl in the attack upon the camp below Weathertop; he has received a sting in the neck from Shelob in her lair; and his finger has been bitten clean off by Gollum in his desperate and final attempt to regain the Ring. Besides this he has been wearied beyond any strength that he might possess by the Ring that he has borne, mile after mile all the way from Bag End to the Cracks of Doom themselves.

And there is one thing further. At the very end of his journey he failed. He came to Orodruin with the purpose of casting the Ring into the Fire but when he came there he could not do the deed and claimed the Ring for himself. If it had not been for Gollum’s final attack Sauron would have regained it and all would have been lost. Frodo may be free from the Ring’s hold upon him, the Quest may be achieved, he may even be at peace in a certain way having forgiven Gollum but it is a peace that almost welcomes death. Death means that nothing further need be explained or even resolved.

Three times Frodo tells Sam that they have come to the end but Sam is not so sure.

“Yes I am with you, Master,” said Sam, laying Frodo’s wounded hand gently to his breast. “And you’re with me. And the journey’s finished. But after coming all that way I don’t want to give up yet. It’s not like me somehow, if you understand.”

Sam has much to live for. His love for Frodo means that he will always do what he can for him, always seek, to the best of his understanding, his best good. And Sam has other longings too. He longs for life itself. You will recall that as they approached the mountain and their water had finally run out that Sam remembered “every brook or stream or fount that he had ever seen, under green willow-shades or twinkling in the sun… He felt the cool mud about his toes as he paddled in the Pool at Bywater with Jolly Cotton and Tom and Nibs, and their sister Rosie.” There is much that Sam would like to go home to, the gentle beauty of the Shire, good friends and Rosie Cotton. Sam would like to be married, to build a home and raise a family. Simple and good desires.

The twentieth century philosopher and theologian, Paul Tillich, spoke about the need, in our age of anxiety about meaninglessness, to find a courage to be. In many ways Frodo is a modern man in search of meaning. His restlessness is growing even before he leaves the Shire and when the Ring goes to the Fire he sees no more purpose to his existence. Sam is, by contrast, a pre-modern man, rooted in a sense of place and a stable society and unafflicted by Frodo’s anxiety. Ultimately, and much to his disappointment, Sam will not be able to heal Frodo, but now amidst the ruin of Mordor, he will do what he can.

And so he gently but firmly leads Frodo away from the Cracks of Doom and down the road that they had taken in their ascent of the mountain until they reach a low ashen hill at the mountain’s foot that, for a brief moment, has become an island in the sea of ruin round about them. He cannot give up and it is his indomitable spirit as well as his love for Frodo that keeps them alive just long enough for Gandalf and Gwaihir to rescue them, performing a kindness for which all Tolkien’s readers have been grateful ever since he first brought us this wonderful story.